


the memory trap

by AwayLaughing



Series: lines of descent [12]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Awkwardness, Complicated Relationships, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Issues, Family Loss, Grandparents & Grandchildren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-19 17:58:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13709673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwayLaughing/pseuds/AwayLaughing
Summary: Sometimes things do not go as planned. Sometimes you don't run into the people you expect. Sometimes you are not who you expect to be.Neji's grandparents come for a visit.





	the memory trap

**Author's Note:**

> I reminded myself that Neji had a set of grandparents who aren't Tsukimi and Henshou, so here they are. Ryouko's parents!

Unkiko clutched at her hem and tried not to fret. “Sooner," she said. "We should have come,even though they said not to. We should have been here when he lost his father.” Ryōun did not argue, and so she knew she was right. “Do you think he will forgive us?”

 

“I’m sure,” he said, taking her hand. “His parents were big hearted, he will understand.”

 

She nodded, because it was easier than the truth. Easier to think their only grandson would of course be magnanimous enough to forgive five years without contact. To forgive being left an orphan without his grandmother there. Maybe he’d even believe them when they said they stayed away because they were asked – and not because they were not strong enough to overcome grief.

 

“Of course he will,” she said. Ryōun squeezed her hand again, and stood. A moment later the caravan came to a slow rocking stop. Ryōun wasted no time hopping out of the back of their transport, offering her his hand before she could follow suit.

 

“M’lady,” he said. She smiled despite herself.

 

“How chivalrous,” she said, “whatever has been done to my husband?”

 

Around them a few of the merchants chuckled, while Redama, coming from around the front, pulled a face. “Ew,” he said. Ryōun wagged a finger at his apprentice, trying and failing to look stern.

 

“Some day you’ll understand boy, but until then don’t knock it,” he said. Redama heaved a dramatic sigh, and popped off a salute.

 

“Sir yes sir,” he said. Unkiko laughed at the antics, for all her heart wasn’t in it. If either man noticed, they were good enough not to mention in.

 

“You know how to get to your compound?” one of the workers asked. Most of them looked like Nara, though admittedly she hadn’t seen a Nara in some years. She supposed if that was the case, they were headed in the exact opposite direction they were. She hadn’t thought to ask, before, she’d just known they would get off on the main junction, like usual. How odd that a habit over half a decade neglected could resurface with such ease.

 

“Yes,” she said. “It’s not our first time here, by any stretch.”

 

“It’s mine,” Redama interjected. “That time I was a baby doesn’t count.”

 

The maybe-Nara just chuckled and moved on. Redama bounced into place next to her, just behind Ryōun. Wryly, Unkiko wondered if she’d ever had that energy. Sixteen was a long time ago now, but she wasn’t sure even then she’d had it. The thought, unbidden like that all are, that Ryōko certainly had. “Well then,” she said, battling down that low grade, ever present grief. “This is an exciting day for you. Maybe you’d like to lead the way?”

 

They weren’t shinobi. Her own family hadn’t been shinobi since long before the founding of Konoha. They didn’t practice the Byakugan like the family here did, but they used it all the same. Redama sighed.

 

“You’re a slave driver, Unki-san,” he told her. “Always having me practice something.”

 

She gave him a bland smile. “If your writing was good enough that people could interpret your requisitions, I would demand much less of your time.”

 

Redama wrinkled his nose. In all things but the Byakugan he was his father’s son – and so he had none of the other family features. Even flame-haired Ryōko had been unmistakably Hyūga, in the cut of her chin and the set of her brow. A gift from Ryōun – Unkiko herself was more like Redama, echoes of an interloper ancestor. But also – he just did not have the personality. Of course he was diligent and hard working, but he was so _loud_.

 

“Well if my tutors had let me use my left hand when I was little I wouldn’t have to be making up for all that lost practice.”

 

“If you’d thought to practice on your own you would have made it all up,” she said as sweetly as she knew how. “Now stop stalling.”

 

* * *

 

 

Naturally, Hiashi-sama couldn’t see them right away. They were left sipping tea in a well appointed room off his office instead. Redama kept fidgeting, but she paid it no mind. She was just about to pour herself a second cup when the hallway doors slid open – and her fingers suddenly went numb.

 

“Oh hey,” Redama said, obviously caught off guard himself. “Who are you?”

 

The boy in the door way gave Redama a quick once over. He looked to be about eight or nine, his dark brown hair hitting a point just above his elbows. He looked rather like the main branch – and her pulse picked up.

 

“Neji-kun?” she said, praying she wasn’t wrong. Ryōun let out a bracing breath next to her, and she found herself suddenly equipped with a blinding grin when he bowed to them.

 

“Obaasama, ojiisama,” he said.

 

“That’s your grandson?” Redama asked, twisting to fully look at him. Neji stared back, face incredibly neutral. “I thought he’d look more like you.”

 

“I am told I favour my father,” Neji said. Despite his words, she immediately searched for Ryōko. She thought she saw her, hiding there in his eyes, curled in the length of his fingers maybe. She wasn't in his expression, certainly, nor his voice. Like his face his voice was neutral. Unkiko wondered if he was mad at them, or possibly shy. For some reason she felt a thrill at the idea – she’d been a shy child herself. She made herself stand, thankful her legs were still steady. Ryōun followed her lead. Redama, looking uncertain started to copy them, and then the office door opened.

 

It was hard to describe the sudden feeling in the room. Hiashi-sama looked right past them, at Neji-kun who stared right back. The air seemed to just disappear, replaced by something charged and unpleasant. She had the sudden urge to make like Redama and squirm – as if she could dislodge this unpleasant pressure.

 

“Hiashi-sama,” Ryōun said, having rallied better than Unkiko. He bowed, and she did the same, remembering to bow a touch shallower at the last second. If Hiashi-sama noticed her etiquette fumble he didn’t let her notice. She was half of a mind he didn’t, though, given the way he stayed fixed on Neji.

 

“Ryōun-san, Unkiko-san,” Hiashi said, finally turning towards them. “I am sorry for the wait. Even early mornings are not my own.”

 

The two of them demurred, Redama echoing them a moment behind. Neji came up so he was just behind them, leaving the door open.

 

“It is no problem, Hiashi-sama,” her husband assured their clan head. “We are at your disposal after all.” She could feel his desire to turn and look at Neji more. No doubt wondering, as she was, what brought him here. Just a hello? Her heart skipped a beat at the thought.

 

“Mm,” Hiashi-sama said. Then he turned back to Neji. “You are free to spend the day with your grandparents.”

 

“I have school,” Neji said. It hurt a little, but he didn’t sound insistent so much as confused.

 

“You have no examinations today, and you are ahead in most of your courses. You can stay into the afternoon tomorrow if you feel you must, but I have already alerted your teacher and she is unconcerned.”

 

There was a beat of silence, and then what sounded like another bow. “Thank you, ojisama.”

 

Hiashi-sama just nodded. “You two are excused for the day, I trust your assistant can read from a list?”

 

“I- yes of course,” Ryōun said, sounding a little dumbstruck. “There are things I wish to discuss with you.”

 

Hiashi-sama raised an eyebrow in a way that was somehow dismissive. “I keep my office after dinner unplanned, you may come by then. Fifteen hundred.”

 

“We don’t wish to keep you from your family, Hiashi-sama,” Unkiko said. There was some sort of noise behind them – Neji she assumed and Hiash-sama’s face shifted every so slightly. Then he turned on his heel.

 

“Come,” he said to Redama. Redama squeaked, and then hurried to follow behind him. He spared a glance for the two of them, and Unkiko gave him a supportive smile.

 

“You can do this,” Ryōun said. Redama nodded, and then vanished into the office.

 

Which left them and Neji.

 

Unkiko turned, her heart ringing in her ears. She hadn’t dreamed of day – a hello at lunch maybe, between his classes. Taking him out to dinner – being able to say goodnight. But this... She beamed at her grandson.

 

“Isn’t it kind of Hiashi-sama to do this for us?” she asked. Neji was very still for a long moment.

 

“Yes,” he said, emotionless. Then he turned and started walking. Stung, Unkiko shared a bewildered look with Ryōun, and quickly set to follow him. He lead them through the house – a different way than they’d come in. Then it was through a series of immaculate gardens until it they were right at the little gate way into the compound. Only then did he turn around – but he didn’t say anything. Just stared at them expectantly.

 

“Well that was brisk,” Ryōun said, trying to lay on some of his charm. Neji just frowned.

 

“Was it? Sorry.” He said, not sounding sorry. Then he just stood there, like a perfect, tiny soldier. More areas where Ryōko was not. Even when she'd been standing in front of them proudly explaining she'd made jōnin, she was not so still, nor such a soldier.

 

“Ah, it’s fine,” Ryōun said. “Is there...something you wanted to do? What do you usually do?”

 

“Go to school,” Neji said.

 

Unkiko laughed, and turned it into a cough when it seemed that wasn’t a joke. Goodness, it had never been this hard to speak to Ryōko, even when she grew up without them there to see it. When she did things they couldn’t dream of, and came back five inches taller. When she fought a war while her parents did nothing. She supposed though, nothing could compare to six years of silence, especially not to little boys less than a decade old.

 

“What do you do when you’re not at school?” she asked. “What would you like to do?”

 

Neji frowned a little harder, though this time it seemed more contemplative. “The gardens are nice, this time of year,” he said after a moment.

 

“The...gardens?” Unkiko repeated, turning back to where they’d just come from.

 

“In the tea district,” he said. “It’s outside of the downtown corps, I guess the Yamanaka own most of the land.”

 

“Oh,” she said, feeling a bit silly. It stood to reason if he wanted to be in the gardens, they would have stayed there. “Well that sounds nice, we could get breakfast.”

 

“I ate.”

 

Ryōun chuckled. “So some tea, and then lunch,” he said. “We’re flexible, if you can be.”

 

Neji studied them for a moment, and then nodded. It seemed like it was more to himself, than them. “Did you...want to rest. Since you travelled?”

 

Unkiko looked at Ryōun, who shook his head. “No dear,” she said. “We’re much more interested in spending time with you.”

 

He nodded, and turned around again. This time she was ready when he started moving.

 

* * *

 

 

The gardens were nice. There was a play ground set up near a cluster of entertainment houses, bars and cafes, and a few children were amusing themselves on it. Neji was not inclined to join them, and Unkiko rather suspected it had nothing to do with the fact they were all visibly younger than him.

 

Not that such a thing would have stopped Ryōko. Gods, she’d been so alive. Always a splash of colour in motion. Neji, in comparison, was pale and still. Hizashi hadn’t struck her like that. Well he’d been still, but there had been a sort of buzzing energy he held under his skin.

 

They sat together under a tree. Ryōun seemed to be dozing, and Neji appeared to be meditating, which left Unkiko trying to guess what to do. What to say. How to say it. Her gaze drifted away from the playing children to her grandson – and found he was looking at her. Instinctively she smiled. He did not smile back.

 

“How come you’ve never visited before?” he asked.

 

Unkiko winced, and felt Ryōun come back to wakefulness next to her. He was the one who answered.

 

“Hiashi-sama did not think we would be helpful. You needed to settle, and it had already been so long since you’d seen us.”

 

“And after?” he asked.

 

Unkiko looked away, partly out of shame. Ryōun gently pat her knee.

 

“We miss your mother terribly,” Unkiko admitted. “It was hard. Is hard.”

 

Neji continued to just look, as if he were waiting on another answer. Finally he asked, “but why didn’t you visit me?”

 

She shared a look with Ryōun, who looked back a little helplessly. When she turned back to Neji, his eyes were slightly narrowed. He didn't say anything, just turned his back to them and rearranged himself back into a meditating position.

 

* * *

 

After forty five minutes - still with no more interaction from their grandson, Ryōun was the one to break. "How about lunch?" he said, "I know it's a bit early, but travelling is hard on the stomach."

 

Neji turned, and for a very brief moment Unkiko thought he might just say no. Clearly he was not happy with them - she didn't blame him. Instead he just squared his shoulders, rocked to his feet and said, "what would you like?"

 

"What would you like?" Unkiko asked. He blinked placidly.

 

"I don't have any preferences," he said. She stared at him. Ryōun stared at her, and the three were just caught in a three way stare off. There was no way this eight year old boy did not have preferences - Ryōko had had a laundary list of foods she couldn't stand as a child. Finally he said, "I don't really like spicy foods."

 

Unkiko beamed. "Me neither! Do you like tempura?" Everyone liked tempura. Ryōko had thought it a wonderful treat to have as a meal, and not just a side. Neji just nodded.

 

* * *

 

 

Lunch was, in a word awkward. All attempts to bond came to a lame, limping ending. Neji did not appear to have any passions, hobbies, friends or opinions. Either that, of he didn’t want to share them with her or Ryōun. When she asked what he did outside of school he said  _train_.

 

“And when you're not training?" she asked. He just looked at her, possibly confused. "Your mother was very fond of painting,” Unkiko said, trying to maybe jog his memory. As if he could have forgotten things he did for fun.

 

“I see,” Neji said. There was a beat and he looked down at his empty plate. “Thank you for lunch. I should go to class now.”

 

 _What, what?_ Unkiko blinked. “Hiashi-sama said you had the day off.”

 

“I don’t want to fall behind,” he said. And then he was gone. Unkiko stared after him a long moment – and then buried her face in her hands. Ryōun rubbed her back gently.

 

“Why is this so hard?” she asked. It was better than what she wanted to truly ask – _who is this boy?_

 

* * *

 

 

They spent the afternoon wandering. Konoha had changed a lot since her childhood – places were gone. Roads were gone. They found some delightful little shops, picked up some wonderful gifts for home, and tried desperately to figure out what they were going to do.

 

“So he’s not what we expected,” Ryōun said as they found themselves near the downtown core. The Hokage’s tower loomed ahead. “He’s still just a little boy, Unkiko.”

 

“I know,” she said. Children were starting to walk past, and she realized the academy must be letting out. It meant they’d wandered later than they thought. “Do you think we should...” she waved a hand at the growing crowd.

 

“He might appreciate it,” Ryōun said. Unkiko nodded, and hooked their arms together. At the academy proper, a few people eyed them curiously. A young man with a nose scar seemed to be evaluating them from his position by the door, and Unkiko sent him a smile. It seemed to mean sometihng to him, as he came over to them.

 

“Hyūga-san, Hyūga-san,” he said, addressing each of them in a way that ended up somewhat comical. “I’m Umino Iruka. Are you here for Hinata-chan?”

 

It took a moment for the name to mean anything to her – and she realized it was Hiashi-sama’s daughter. “Ah no, we are here for Neji-kun.”

 

For a moment the man stared at them blankly. “Neji-kun?” he repeated. “He doesn’t usually have anyone pick him up, to my knowledge.”

 

“He seems to be a very independant boy,” Ryōun said. “We are his grandparents, we’re visiting from Saihyouyama.”

 

“Oh,” he said, sounding less confused. “Oh that’s nice. I haven’t seen him leave -” he broke off “-yes there he is.”

 

Neji seemed to spot them at the same time, if the way he froze was any indication. Around him, the rest of the children ignored him. Finally he came over to them, looking, frankly, a little hostile.

 

“Obaasama, ojiisama,” he said. “I thought you would go back to the compound.”

 

“Oh we were exploring and realized you’d be getting out,” Ryōun said. “We thought we'd reconvene here. Did you enjoy class?”

 

“It was educational,” Neji said, as flatly as he’d said anything else. Unkiko laughed anyway – and thought maybe she saw a pleased little smile flash across his face.

 

* * *

 

 

They walked back in silence, and Neji rather pointedly abandoned them outside the guest house where they were staying, with a remainder they had to meet Hiashi-sama later. They didn’t even get a chance to respond, and Unkiko watched his retreating back without really understanding what was happening.

 

“We should shower and eat,” she said finally. “I’ll cook, you get clean.”

 

Ryōun didn’t argue. Indeed, he took it upon himself to nap after his shower. Unkiko watched him for a long moment. They’d been married a long time, she realized. Raised a daughter, sent her away, lost her forever. In that time, had they lost a grandson, not through high tragedy but rather the lowest form – pure cowardice?

 

“Unkiko?” Ryōun said, possibly feeling her eyes on him. Wordlessly she crawled onto the fuuton with him.

 

“Just thinking dear,” she said.

 

“About Ryōko?”

 

“And Neji.”

 

“That’s what I meant.”

 

When they finally roused, they found Redama in the kitchen, heating up supper.

 

“Hey!” he said, grinning to them. “He gave us everything!”

 

“Terrific!” Ryōun said, clapping Redama on the shoulder. “Tell me everything.”

 

* * *

 

 

The meeting went well. Hiashi-sama, frankly, didn’t seem too concerned, really. He agreed that with the death of Takayo-sama there would be downsizing at the estate, and to start preparations to bring some of them back here to Konoha. He’d also agreed to increase their portion of the clan funds by 2%, so they could spend it on training. If they were to slowly trickle back to Konoha, they would need skills. Their children – or the children of the younger generation, Unkiko was well past her prime there – could be reabsorbed into the shinobi stream. Those who’d spent their whole lives as maids, stable hands and gardeners did not have the ability to do that. Many of them didn’t have more than basic writing, either.

 

“I thought that would be a harder sell,” Ryōun admitted once the door was closed behind them. Unkiko did not get to answer though, as a familiar figure appeared.

 

“Tsukimi-sama,” she said, bowing.

 

Tsukimi-sama smiled thinly at them, hands tucked into her sleeves. “Unkiko-san,” she said. “It’s been many years. I suppose you came chasing ghosts. You must be terribly disappointed.”

 

Despite herself, Unkiko bristled. “We came for business, and to see our grandson,” she said. Tsukimi-sama’s smile turned indulgent.

 

“Isn’t that what I said?” she asked, because she was a horrible woman. It was easy to forget about her, when you had almost a decade without being subjected to her. She’d been vile at Ryōko’s wedding – a wedding of all places – and she was vile now. Of course she would show up, and try and pick at any scabs she noticed. “How disappointing of you, not to have a perfect clone to dote on.”

 

“Neji-kun is a delight,” Ryōun said rather flatly and completely flasely. “And we are pleased to see him no matter who he takes after.”

 

“Of course of course,” she said. "We are always happy to have our family around, no matter what. Such is the Hyūga way."

 

“Oh,” Unkiko found herself feigning surprise, “speaking of family, I’ve been meaning to ask. How is your sister, Hoshiko-san?”

 

The smile didn’t move, but it did seem to lose something. “She’s dead, I’m afraid.”

 

Of course she was. She’d been beaten to death by her husband, the same as his wife before her, and the one after her. The fourth one appeared to have gotten lucky – but whether it was that, a proactive family member or some enterprising use of poison, no one knew.

 

“Oh my apologies,” Unkiko said, ignoring the look Ryōun sent her. She rarely got...catty but there was just something about this woman. She didn't care if she was Hiashi-sama's mother. She'd always been utterly cruel to Ryōko, and that was enough to be unforgivable. “She was so kind, Hoshiko-san. I remember her playing with my brothers. My mother spoke glowingly of her.”

 

“Simpler times, Unkiko-san,” Tsukimi-sama said. “Though memory can be a false friend. Hoshiko had her bite.”

 

“Don’t we all, Tsukimi-sama?” Ryōun said, cutting off anything Unkiko might want to say. “If you don’t mind, we had wished to say goodnight to Neji-kun, in case we don’t see him in the morning.”

 

Tsukimi-sama let her arms drop, waving one dainty hand in the direction behind her. “He’s practising in the dojo, no doubt,” she said. They bowed to her, making their way in the direction they knew it to be. At the end of the hall, Unkiko paused when the older woman’s voice rang out. “You shouldn’t be disappointed, you know. He really is quite delightful. Reminds me of myself, sometimes.”

 

“Neji-kun is his own, as we all are,” Ryōun said.

 

She laughed. “Even you do not believe that, Ryōun-san.”

 

* * *

 

 

Unkiko had always had the impression her daughter was a good shinobi. People told her so, anyway, and what little she’d seen reinforced the idea. Neji seemed to be similar to her in that way, at least. To her untrained eyes he was as fluid as a dancer as he did his kata. If he spotted them, which he had to have done, it didn’t bother him to have an audience and so she and Ryōun stood in silence.

 

When he finished, he turned to look at them.

 

“Your mother was a good fighter, we’re told,” she said to him, hoping to connect. “She was very fluid, too.”

 

“What time do you leave tomorrow?” he asked, apparently unconcerned with anything about his mother. It stung a little, but she buried it.

 

“6AM,” Unkiko said.

 

“Very early,” Ryōun confirmed. She elbowed him lightly – _he_ usually wasn’t in his office until 9AM.

 

“I will see you off,” he said firmly.

 

“You really needn’t-”

 

“I’ll be up anyway,” he said. “Goodnight.”

 

He made no move to leave himself, however and so after a moment Unkiko took Ryōun by the elbow and left Neji to his training. She tried not to think of similar visits with Ryōko. Of staying up later, sipping cocoa and tucking her in bed.

 

* * *

 

 

He did see them off. He didn’t actually say anything, but, at 6AM, he was there, standing on the sidelines as they rejoined the caravan. A few of the workers waved to him, but he didn’t really interact with him.

 

“Tough kid,” the one from the other day said.

 

“My grandson,” she said, a little faintly. “Neji-kun.”

 

“Well, he's cute,” the man said as if he'd always meant to say so. “Not friendly, though.”

 

“No, not terribly,” she said. "Not like his mother was, certainly."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. Neji is sort of doomed to failure with grandparents it turns out - one half of the family only sees him as a tiny version of his father, the other half only sees everything his mother was not. Honestly when I started writing I didn't intent to go this route - it's just where we ended up.


End file.
